


You're not alone anymore

by lordbyronsass



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn, basically just self insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordbyronsass/pseuds/lordbyronsass
Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON TWO OF THE MANDALORIAN!!!Basically just altering the plot from chapter 14 onwards.Din Djarin goes to Tython and finds a Jedi, she's just not what he was expecting.Basically a slow burn fic with an Original Jedi character and lots of fluff. A bit of a Forbidden lovers thing and prime ManDad content.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	1. The Temple at Tython

Despite being used of the sun from his time on Nevarro, Din Djarin couldn’t help but sigh at the sweat building on his brown beneath the Beskar helmet. The sun on Tython seemed to be trying to rival the heat of Tattooine, and he was becoming impatient watching Grogu sitting on the round stone, gurgling and cooing, unperturbed by the wait.

“C’mon kid, she said you had to make the choice.”

Grogu’s only response was a delighted squawk at the appearance of fluttering blue creatures the likes of which the Mandalorian had not seen before. Another low sigh escaped his lips, altered by the voice modulator in his helmet so that anyone listening could mistake it for a hiss. He slowly turned, taking time to observe the planet from the peak, dry, dusty but withholding an echo of the place it once was – Green and full of life. Now it sat baking in the sun, the stones and a distant ruin built from rocks into a mountainside all that remained.

“Alright well let’s get moving, I guess Ahsoka was wrong.”

As the armored man moved forward to pick up the child he thought of the fuel he wasted in coming here, the long journey back to any kind of civilization – and most prominently he allowed himself to celebrate in the small joy of the lack of Jedi present and therefore possible separation from the small green creature he had become so fond of, but before he could secure the child in his arms a voice from behind him called out, 

“Ahsoka sent you?”

In the same time it took for the words to reach his ears he had spun around, blaster in hand and directed it at the sounds point of origin- A girl.

She stood small in stature, but solid, clad in all black and grey, face hidden beneath the shadow cast by a large cloak which drifted in a light breeze around mid-thigh- obscuring his view from any weaponry. 

“Who are you?” he asked with what could almost be considered concern if not for his monotone.

“I could ask you the same thing, Mandalorian,”  
As her soft words danced across the breeze to meet him she pulled the hood back, exposing her tan skin to the bright light of the sun, her brown hair glinted in the sun, pulled back tightly, revealing small white puckered scars that littered her freckled skin. Din silently thought to himself that he should be doing something, interrogating this person or protecting the child, but he was caught off guard by the appearance of this unexpected visitor.  
“But I’m more interested in the child.”

\----------------  
For Ta’mo’hara every day on Tython was like the last, wake, train, read, sleep, wake, train, read, sleep. Her heart ached for the days the temple was filled with chatter, those small voices so loud echoing against the stone walls, filling the courtyard, halls, training yard and even the library. She missed the sound of wooden sabers cracking against one another. Mostly she missed company, although she would never admit this to herself. She had herself fooled in her own idea of a life’s purpose, studying the way of the Jedi- and the Sith. But she yearned for what she once had, what she felt she would never have again. And so she continued with her days, attempting to find contentment in her preservation of the lone Jedi Temple. Each day like the last, until it wasn’t.

She felt it before she heard it, a pressure change in the air around her, a fluttering of the force so gentle but unmistakable and then she heard it, the descent of a ship. Panic flooded her and she ran through the halls from the library of the temple, her footsteps loud but undetected by her ears which were filled only with the pounding of her heart. How have they found me? Why are they back? She felt the fear and let it run through her, not allowing it to fill her mind but trickle through it like a stream. On this stream of fear a small allotment of hope slipped by; What if they escaped after all this time? 

Ta’mo’hara pushed through the doors to the temple skidding out into the light and raising an arm against the glare as she squinted to catch sight of the ship, her other hand grazing the saber at her hip. She pulled the hood from her shoulders around her head as she tried to find the source of the noise: One ship slowly descending in the distance near the sacred hilltop. From what she could see the silhouette of the ship was not that of the supposedly fallen empire but her suspicion remained as she made her way towards it, brows furrowed as she recalled the last time a ship landed at the temple.

\-----------------------

The beating of her heart only increased as she was faced with the glimmering metal of the Mandalorian’s helmet, but it was not fear that occupied her now, only curiosity. The glimmer of the force she felt earlier no longer as soft, but raging, beating against her like waves, but it wasn’t from him that it came, but the behind him. 

It had been nearly six years since she had heard the name of her Master spoken aloud but she hardly had time to dwell on the thought of Ahsoka Tano before she became aware of the soft gurgling behind the Mandalorian, which took all of her attention. Her eyes met his.

“Why are you here? Is Ahsoka okay?” Her eyes stayed locked on the child’s, his large ears perked up at the sound of her voice, she couldn’t help but smile slightly, forgetting only for a moment the presence of the man before her. 

“She’s fine, she sent us here.” The monotonous voice gave nothing away and piqued Ta’mo’hara’s interest even further as she noticed he still held the blaster. “Are you Jedi?” he continued, slowly pulling the blaster down, but not holstering it just yet.

Ta’mo’hara scrunched her nose as she thought on her response, “I guess you could call me that. Come with me.” 

Without waiting for a response she turned and began her descent back to the cool reprieve of the temple walls, she had no need to check if the man and the child followed and she could here the small gurgles alongside the pulsing of the force energy which faded the further they got from the stone.  
Her mind flooded with thoughts she struggled to control, so long she had gone without speaking a word to another living being, force ghosts don’t count, and now here were two, a Mandalorian and a force sensitive child sent by her old Master. Surely Ahsoka knew what had happened four years ago, why would she send this child to her after what had happened? And most importantly, why was this child’s guardian a Mandalorian, an age old enemy of the Jedi, and why did she feel she could trust him with her back turned and lead him directly into the temple?

The Mandalorian holstered his blaster, picked up the child and followed the girl’s cloaked back down the hill, through the dust and the scrubs for quite some time, his hand never straying far from his hip and his eyes never leaving her. Each step he thought of various escape routes, how best to keep the child out of harms way and every possible scenario the near future could hold, but these thoughts were hollow. In his 36 years of life he had very rarely stood before another person and felt at ease the way he now did, it didn’t make sense, she was a stranger and perhaps the one who would take the child away from him forever, and yet he felt he knew her. That didn’t stop him from analyzing her every step.

The three quickly found their way into the shade of the temple, Ta’mo’hara lead them into the shaded courtyard, a wide open space walled only by trees which provided a dappled shade from the planets harsh sun.  
Without a word she walked to the small fountain in a corner of the courtyard and collected two bowls of water and returned to the two travellers offering the bowl to the small creature and the armored man. The child quickly guzzled the water down while the man stood still.

Ta’mo’hara looked to the Mandalorian, watching him through the impenetrable visor. Din Djarin felt an odd sensation well up inside of him, he felt as if this small woman could see behind his mask in a way no one had seen him since he was a child, he held himself still, fighting the urge to fidget under her gaze, her green eyes surrounded by dark lashes and thick brows marked by scars seemed to burn into him. As quickly as it began, she stopped and looked to the child before swiftly lowering herself into a seated position. She now turned her gaze to the youngling, who looked up with his large brown eyes from behind the bowl, he froze under her gaze much as his adoptive father had, except he reached out with his small three-fingered hand dropping the bowl. Ta’mo’hara met his touch with her own hand and both their eyes drifted closed. Silently between them images drifted back and forth, she began to realize the young one was in fact older than her by many years and saw the busy city planet on which he was raised. The images flooding before her were so familiar but so distant, the robes fluttering past, training helmets, stern voices, the Master’s Council. Slowly these images were encroached upon by a darkness and all she could feel was fear as it faded to black. 

Ta’mo’hara held back tears, and like the stream of fear that previously ran through her, she allowed it to fill her and flow out of her before she opened her eyes with a soft sigh “Oh, little one,” She again turned her gaze up towards the masked man.

“I can only guess why Ahsoka sent you,” Din Djarin was startled by her voice as she stared up at him from besides the child, crouched down and surrounded by the dark folds of her cloak. While she sat in silence he had observed her every visible feature, she was covered from neck to feet in dark fabrics and brown leathers and all his eyes really had access to was her brown hair which disappeared in a braid into her cloak and her tan face. Her strong features littered with tiny white scars, cutting across an eyebrow, a cheek, splitting her lip, nose and chin as if she had been spattered with white engine oil.

“You want me to train this child.”


	2. The Dark Side and the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And you’re a Jedi?”
> 
> “No.” Her answer startled him even more than she did. “I study the ways of the force, the dark and the light. I refuse to make the same mistakes as the Jedi. Their folly led to the rise of the Galactic Empire and the suffering of so many.” She paused and looked down. “Although I guess in a way I have made the same mistakes.”

Din startled himself awake, his sharp intake of breath echoing through his modulator and off the cool stone wall around him, his hand lingering at the holster by his hip. For a single moment he forgets the previous night and where he his, his first thoughts rushing to the Child, which he quickly realizes is gently snoring besides him.

He takes a moment to breathe, lower his heart rate and recollect his previous day; which led him to these small, but comfortable quarters. He hadn’t slept that well since Nevarro. The small Jedi boarding in the Temple were just that much larger than his sleeping bunk on the Razor Crest and the mattress just that much softer. 

The Mandalorian slowly extracted himself from the tangled mess of his sleeping ward and the blankets and made his way to the door of the small room. Before he pushed past the makeshift door, made of a threadbare cloth, and into the hallway he looked back, the walls not that much larger than the room, space enough for the mattress and a small table, which seemed to engulf the small green child asleep there.

“Stay here, Grogu.” He whispered softly, as he turned the baby cooed gently in acknowledgement. Din chuckled, that would never get old.

He began to make his way through the dimly lit corridors in an attempt to locate their host. Her words from the previous night lingered in his mind as he past a dozen doors leading to rooms the same as the one he had just exited.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t help but feel a fascination about the girl who allowed them to rest in the temple for the night, she seemed young but walked with the grace and air of that of her supposed Master, Ahsoka Tano. Because of the girls relationship to the Togruta he knew he couldn’t underestimate her, but he didn’t feel any suspicion towards her, only curiosity.

Eventually he found his way back to the courtyard which they spoke yesterday, after her refusal to train the Child he seriously considered just picking Grogu up and taking him away, a sick sense of relief that they would not be parted. But he knew better, he knew he had to try help Grogu find his place in this galaxy. He owed him that. So he accepted the girls offer to stay the night and discuss the matter further in the morning. 

He couldn’t help but linger over the memory of her face lit by the dancing flames of the fire in front of her, her watchful gaze cast over the child as he slurped at the food she gave him. If it weren’t for the low light and the moving shadows across her face, he could of sworn he saw her smile.

There she now sat again in the courtyard, legs crossed and her back towards him. He began to approach her slowly, a predator stalking his prey as he moved around her, observing her more clearly now she was free of her cloak. However he was almost disappointed to discover she was nearly just as covered. Her black inner tunic covering her arms and throat, leaving only her face and hands exposed. He seemed mesmerized by her, her long braids falling just above her hips, cascading down her back across her dark tabards and brushing along a worn, dark leather belt of which hung the hilt of what he only guessed was weapon he referred to as a laser sword.

While he moved around her, her face coming into view he became startled to realize that she wasn’t actually seated on the floor as he first assumed. As he drew closer to her, eyes closed and hands gently resting on her knees, he realized that she was floated just above the floor, her tabards draped between her knees just grazing the ground beneath her. So she is a Jedi he thought to himself.

The girl in question was completely aware of the armored man who now stood before her despite her closed eyes, she had known the moment he stepped foot outside of the room.

She had decided to mediate and draw in the power of the force to ask an outside influence what to do, but the moment she settled into herself and reached out all she could feel was the gentle flutter of the force radiating from the small child, it had been years since she had been in the presence of another who was sensitive to the force. For a brief moment she wondered his Midi-Chlorian count. But this was not all she felt, now that the child was no longer atop the ancient stone she had room to feel the force again outside of him, and what she felt alarmed her. She let that emotion pass through her body and examined the cause- she felt so strongly the presence of the man who brought the child to her it was as if a small tether existed in the force that drew her attention to him. She did not dwell on this thought, it had been far to long since she had seen another living being.

“You’ve come to ask me to train him again, haven’t you?” Her voice broke the silence, eyes still closed shut before she sighed, her body lowering to the ground as she finally looked up at him.  
“You never told me who you are.” Was his only response. Despite her connection to the force this man was unreadable, the Beskar not only hiding any facial reactions, but the modulator removing any inclinations in tone from his voice. Although she suspected that without it he would just be as hard to read.

“My name is Ta’mo’hara.” She shifted in her seated position, lifting one leg to bend in front of her and rest an arm on it. “Who are you, Mandalorian?”

“And you’re a Jedi?” He replied, completely ignoring the question she asked of him.

“No.” Her answer startled him even more than she did. “I study the ways of the force, the dark and the light. I refuse to make the same mistakes as the Jedi. Their folly led to the rise of the Galactic Empire and the suffering of so many.” She paused and looked down. “Although I guess in a way I have made the same mistakes.”

He stood there in silence for a moment looking down at her through his visor, contemplating her words before a small shriek took his attention. The Child had woken from his sleep and was stumbling into the courtyard with joyous gurgles and cries; chasing another of those blue flying insects they had seen the day before. He stumbled forwards toward Ta’mo’hara and landed in her lap as his six fingers enclosed around the butterfly. Happily he stuffed it into his mouth before anyone can stop him.

“No, Kid! Don’t do tha-“ The Mandalorian’s protests are interrupted by the loud bark of Ta’mo’hara’s laugh. Din was desperately hoping that the kid didn’t just devour some sacred animal but the not-Jedi seemed relaxed and unfazed. He stared down at them both, the creature’s large ears flapping about as he shuffled into a seated position within the girls lap, staring up at her with a quizzical expression. The girl returned the gaze with a smirk.

“What did I say about minding your manners?” Din Djarin speaks softly, as if to himself. He raises his voice slightly, “Will you teach him? We’ve travelled a long way – I’ve been quested to help this little one find the Jedi- or those who can help train him.”

Ta’mo’hara listened to the man, but kept her eyes on the child, trying not to allow the fear to rise within her again and take control, those large eyes gazing up at her reminded her of all that she lost, all those who she had failed to protect from the Empire.

“I-“ She paused for a single moment, “I don’t think I’m the right one to teach him.”

“Ahsoka Tano told me to bring the child here to the stone and that he would choose his fate. And then we found you.” His voice was steady and firm. He knew this was his mission and yet still a part of him squirmed with the thought the child might be separated from him. 

“Give me a week with him. I want to see his abilities, his connection to the force. I want to see if it outweighs his connection to you.”


	3. Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian and the Child fall into a routine on Tython with their new friend.
> 
> Mainly some cute Baby moments and a bit of angst. These two really are clueless.
> 
> This chapter has a lil bit of ..... nudity just fyi but nothing graphic!! And some mentions of PTSD and scarring.

His second day in the Temple starts much like the last, he bolts upright, breath heavy, hand to hip the only difference being that today the Child is not beside him. 

The Mandalorian follows the halls till he reaches the courtyard again and stops, today instead of just the girl, the child is seated across from her, mimicking her seating and posture.

The pair sit in silence, just staring at each other. He hears her hum in acknowledgement as if someone had spoke, but the only sound in the courtyard is a soft breeze through the surrounding trees and the bubbling of the small fountain in the corner. Din stops in the doorway and leans against the frame, curious to their exchange.

The girl giggles and reaches out to Grogu picking him up in her arms and lightly touching her forehead to his for a long moment. Something pulls beneath Din’s chest armor, an unfamiliar feeling. He watches her play with the Child’s ears when she sets him back down. 

“It’s okay, you’re not alone anymore.” She whispers to the child, loud enough that he just catches the words, the pull in his chest turning warm as he, for a split second, imagines that she could possibly be talking to him instead of the Child. Watching the exchange between them his mind drifted to a time in his life he avoided, which crept up on him late at night, drifting through space alone in his bunk on the Razor Crest. The memories of a life he once had, the family he had. As Ta’mo’hara’s hand brushed the underside of Grogu’s chin he jolted at the memory of his mothers touch before he was placed in the bunker. Din shook the thought away, instead focusing on the girls forearm peaking out from her dark tunic, the same white raised lines that were etched on her face spread across her outer wrist, only larger and more raised.

Her other hand reached out beside her and she raised a small branch the length of the Child’s whole height. She laid it upon a flat outreached palm whilst maintaining eye contact with Grogu, and slowly it rose up before the two of them and then dropped back into her hand.

“Can you do that for me, young one?” She asked in a soft voice.

Grogu only looked up at her with grabby hands and small a small gurgle. When she placed it into his three-fingered hand his only response was to begin to chew the end. 

The Mandalorian chose this moment to reveal himself stepping forward towards the seated pair. “He doesn’t have a great track record of taking orders.”

Despite knowing his presence she hadn’t expected him to speak and suddenly felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment at being caught off guard with the little one.

“I feel the force is strong with him, but he has yet to show me if he can still wield it.” She spoke aloud, using the moment to look down and hide the color on her cheeks as she stood up to look the man in the visor where she assumed his eyes would be. 

Without a word Din reached into a pocket and pulled a small shiny metal ball out, placing it on his palm and squatting before the child.

“Grogu,” the small being quickly turned to the Mandalorian with a squeak, “Take it.”

And without hesitation Ta’mo’hara saw the sphere fly through the air and into the younglings hand. 

“Hmmm.” She hummed, raising a hand to her chin. “I see.”  
She folded both arms across her chest and looked away from the Mandalorian. Ta’mo’hara’s mind wandered, she thought of the stories Ahsoka had told her of her own master and the reasons she was walking this path that she had chosen.

“His attachment to you is very strong, as I think you know, and he has spent so long away from the Jedi’s training. I don’t think separating him from you is a wise idea.”

Din Djarin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, a weight lifted from his shoulders that had been present since Arvala-7. But he knew there was more the girl had to say.

“But he needs to learn to control his fear, his anger. Unchecked his power could cause extreme damage, to himself and to others. This attachment to you would be frowned upon by the Jedi, embraced by the Sith, however I am neither of those. I believe this youngling can find a balance, learn control and balance the light and the dark at war within him.” Her heavy words hung around them, he tried to imagine the small child as dangerous, he had seen what Grogu was capable of, his powers, the way he choked Cara Dune but he couldn’t imagine something as serious as a war within the small being.   
“Well where does that leave us?” Din questioned, looking down at the Child who was wandering free in the courtyard making a beeline for the fountain.

“I’ll do it. I’ll train him. But he’s yours to look after. Stay here with us while we find our bearings.” A part of Ta’mo’hara was filled with joy at the idea of the child and his mysterious guardian she found herself drawn to staying here with her, but she couldn’t help but remember her past.

“I don’t know if that’s safe.” His words seemed to almost strike into Ta’mo’hara, the current of fear flowing through her grew stronger in her current, she snapped around to face him and lowered her arms.

“Why?”

“There are others who are after him,” Din said gesturing towards the child who was occupied with flicking the water from the fountain around him. “Remnants of the Empire.”

Ta’mo’hara froze and closed her eyes, it took all her strength to fight the fear and find peace. She felt a pang of disappointment in herself, How can I train him when I can barely control my own fear? All the faces she had lost flashed behind her closed eyes, but as she clenched her fist and open her eyes again all she could see was the Mandalorian.

“Why would they come here? It’s well known that this Temple is abandoned.”

“Well, let’s just see how it goes for now.” He said, not oblivious to her strong reaction at the mention of the Empire.

“We can keep him safe here.” As she spoke she realized it wasn’t a statement, but a wish.

\----------  
The trio slowly fell into a routine. Din would work on the ship during the day, fixing up loose wiring and small fixes he had been putting off before he even found the kid. He spent the first few days on edge, wary of Ta’mo’hara, but still inexplicably drawn to her, finding in spare moments that he was watching over her and the child as they trained, meditated or even played. That small thrumming of energy beneath his breastplate never ceasing.

Ta’mo’hara felt wounds healing she hadn’t allowed herself to even acknowledge she had every moment she spent with her new Padawan and his guardian. She barely spoke to the Mandalorian in the days that followed, but she felt his eyes on her and that blush returned to her cheeks regularly. The child was stronger with the force than she had first realized, he slowly began to show her how he used his powers, moving small objects and showing her memories such as the battle with the Mudhorn. She quickly became enamored with the small one, though this fact scared her more than anything else and she tried desperately to suppress it.

She spent each day with him, scolding him for the various items that found his way into his mouth, meditating with him in soft sunlight and occasionally chasing him around the temple in some kind of game of hide and seek. His constant gurgles and cries more satisfying that any sound that had graced the halls of this temple in years.

On the third day of their visit the trio sat together around the fire, her and Grogu sharing a meal while the Mandalorian sat in silence. His gaze made Ta’mo’hara shuffle were she sat and her nerves gave her the bravery to ask, “You’re a child of the watch aren’t you? It’s why you never remove your helmet.”

He stayed quiet from some time and she turned her gaze into her bowl and tried to ignore the silence between them, punctuated only by Grogu’s slurping.

“Yes.”

Not a man of many words.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words were left hanging in the air as he looked at her. No one had ever said that to him before.

“Why?” he asked.

“Well it means you lost your family. I know how hard that can be. Although,” She smiled down at the big eared creature who had turned his attention to the untouched bowl in front of the man, “I guess you’ve found it again.”

He realized that every time this small girl spoke to him he was taken off guard, he was beginning to understand why. So often in his life he had been treated as nothing more than a threat clad in Beskar. But she spoke to him without this fear, looked at him through his visor without fear, she spoke to him as an equal and with respect. None had apologized to him for the losses he had experienced. Once again his chest warmed. But he shifted his gaze to the fire.

Embarrassed at opening up to him like that Ta’mo’hara returned to silence, sneaking glances up at the man through her lashes and trying to gauge what he refused to reveal about himself.

Going to bed that night was the first night in nearly five years she felt the fear and rage within her subside.

But as she often did, she awoke with fresh tears pooling on her cheeks and a scream trapped in her chest, old wounds aching as she relived her past in her mind. The echoes of the screams ricocheting in her ears as she gasped for breath. The image of her younglings, her Padawans being dragged up the ramps by the Clone Troopers just as the explosion pushes her back into darkness.

When the morning came she found herself drenched in sweat and desperate to be free of the walls of the temple. The sun had not risen and neither had her guests so she took her opportunity to slip on her boots and gently walk out of the temple and into the cool morning air, the sky a faint purple. As she walked she gently undid her belt and held it, saber dangling, never pausing as she made her way to the nearby river down the hills of which the Temple was hidden.

When she reached the bubbling water she paused catching sight of her reflection and quickly looked away, busying herself with removing layers of cloth wound around her body and untying her braids. Laying them in a folded pile of which her saber rested atop besides the water. The fresh morning air hitting her bare skin made her shiver slightly as she waded into the water stopping only once it reached her chin, her long hair fanning out around her on the waters surface.

Ta’mo’hara squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to breathe, recalling the voice of her master she reached within, finding her centre and then working outwards, feeling each caress of the force surrounding her like the cool waters. Slowly her breathing evened, her heart rate slowed and she found the peace she was searching for. She would never force her emotions away, try contain or control them. She knew the only way was to embrace them and let them float by. 

She finds herself drifting along that stream of her emotions, peering in at the damaged, but healed walls of her own psyche.

She is so drawn inwards that she doesn’t feel the presence of the Mandalorian watching her nearby. He had not meant to follow her, he was only making his way back to the ship to finish some repairs when he caught sight of her in the pool of water. He knew he shouldn’t stare, he of all people who kept every inch of his body covered from sight, but he couldn’t help but be drawn in to the sight of her. He was so distracted by his own jealously at her own freedoms that it wasn’t until Ta’mo’hara had begun to wade out of the water that he realized the extent of his inappropriate behavior. He realized immediately that since he saw her he had been desperate to see more of her skin, but he was unsure why, and there she was, bare in front of him, her long dark hair trailed in wet tendrils down her back, reaching the top of her hips, her skin was tanned and speckled with constellations of freckles that he couldn’t help but map out in his mind. But he quickly became aware that her skin was not only marked by these freckles, but long white raised lines of scars scattered across nearly every inch of her skin. He felt himself stiffen and gasp as she turned towards him, the sight of her fully bare made him realize what he was doing and he quickly but quietly backed away, turning and walking he didn’t stop until he was back inside the temple. It was only then he realized how heavy his breathing had become.


	4. The Tragedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have never written any action before oops.

Mando is still trying to regain some sense of reality after slipping back into the temple when he hears her approach, quickly he rushes away to avoid an encounter with her, but its too late.

“Oh! Morning.” Ta’mo’hara sings as she realizes how deeply she must have been in her own head as she nearly runs into the back of the Mandalorian who seems to stiffen at the sound of her voice. He hardly turns back to grunt out a low “Morning.” Before he stomps off towards the direction of his room.

She hardly thought anything of it, she already believed him to be indifferent to her. 

Ta’mo’hara makes her way through the Temple, she never goes further than the library these days, not willing to go into the destroyed parts of the temple for risk of the memories those ruins hold. The soft padding of her feet rhythmic against stones and then wood as she crosses the boundary into the library. In her spare moments since the Child’s arrival she has been pouring over ancient texts trying to gain some insight to Grogu’s species. So far she had discovered nothing, her own knowledge limited to Ahsoka’s mentions of Master Yoda, but other than that the child was a mystery. Very few of the texts remained after the attack and those than did she had already read, many times over. 

She let out a frustrated sigh and her mind began to wander. She thought of the way she had trusted this masked man into her home, after everything she’d been through and she lingered on the way he cared for the child, the way he picked him up, scolded him and comforted him when he cried. She couldn’t help thinking about what he could possibly be like under the helmet, how old was he, what color were his eyes and what did his voice really sound like?

She quickly shook herself out of her own thoughts and pulled away from the scrolls piled around her and went off to find the child to begin for the day. It didn’t take long before she found him, or rather them, they were in one of the training rooms. The child tugging at the pant leg of the Mandalorian as he looked at the wooden training staffs that lined the wall. Gently he picked one up and gave it a spin before placing it back where it came from.

Ta’mo’hara smiled to herself before gently clearing her throat. The man spun around quickly but relaxed when he saw her. He paused awkwardly for a moment, feeling as if he had been caught snooping, it reminded him of the morning and he shamefully looked to his boots and the child there, which he bent to pick up.

“I think he’s still a bit young for combat training, but we’ll get there,” Ta’mo’hara said with a laugh.

Din began to open his mouth to say something but he was quickly cut off by the loud rumble of a ship entering the atmosphere. They both froze to look at each other, panicked but only for a moment.

“Take the kid, keep him safe, I’ll see what it is.” He said, his wide strides bringing him before her in seconds. She reached out and the child climbed into her arms. They both turned to watch as the Mandalorian quickly moved out of sight, they both looked at each other as his footsteps receded.

A worried expression lingered on the younglings brow which she stroked gently with a finger, “I’m sure it’s nothing.” But her voice was unconvincing even to her.

This can’t be happening again.

Carrying the child she jogged to her sleeping space and picked up her cloak, fashioning it into a sling to keep the child at her chest and her hands free. She began to exit the temple, her left hand clenched at her side and her right grazing the cool metal of her saber.

I won’t let it.

As they came into the light she heard distant shots of blasters but they didn’t last long. She considered the prospect that the Mandalorian had put a swift end to the visitor, but she could hardly be hopeful before she heard the sound of another ship approaching. She looked up, raising one hand to shield her from the suns rays. Her heart stopped. It was an imperial carrier. It landed near where the sounds of the shots echoed out. Ta’mo’hara barely hesitated before she turned and began the journey up the hill to the sacred stone. The high ground would give her an advantage and she was sure the Mandalorian would quickly join her there.

As she jostles up the hill the only sounds the baby makes are soft and quiet, she feels him wriggle around and she sense he is searching for his father. “It’s okay little one, he’ll be with us in a moment.”

Once she reaches the sacred stone she looks down the other side of the hill and sees blaster fire, the Mandalorian and two others making quick work out of the squadron of Troopers. She sighed with relief, the new comers had to be friends of his to fight by his side, it gave them a better chance, she felt herself becoming hopeful. Another ship had landed but the three warriors below had made quick work of it, as the Imperial carriers retreated they were blown from the sky.

Ta’mo’hara saw the Mandalorian look up at them both and she nodded to him and the others, just as she was about to begin her descent she sensed a darkness close at hand, her and the child looked up at the same time as figures descended around them.

Ta’mo’hara wasted no time in igniting her saber. 

The Mandalorian began to run to them in horror, firing when he could and making his way up the hill when he saw a bright blue light, tinged purple and glowing. Surely he thought whatever these soldiers were surrounding Ta’mo’hara she could take them, he thought with desperation. 

The sound of blaster fire reverberated off the surrounding hills as she defended herself from the figures. She hadn’t had to fight in many years but she never stopped training. It didn’t take her long to realize she had never faced a threat like this before. Her defences were fast, but their shots faster coming at her from all angles, she deflected as many as she could but it wasn’t long before the attack from behind was successful. One shot pierced her shoulder blade and she cursed under her breath. Not only did she look it, but she felt like a snarling, feral animal cornered by predators. She pushed two of her attackers away with the force, their backs cracking into the standing stones, and used her saber to deflect the attack of two more, but she was getting desperate and she knew help was too far away. Before she had time to react a robotic hand reached out and hit her from behind and to prevent her landing on the child she twisted, saber knocked from her hands. She reached out with one hand to push her assailants away, but suddenly she felt a warm wetness running down her back stemming from the place of impact. Ta’mo’hara collapsed to her knees. She could barely hear the distressed cries of the child or the shouts of the Mandalorian over the ringing in her ears. Her world was turning black, but not before she felt hands close tightly around her upper arms and suddenly she felt herself forced upwards before the darkness closed in.


	5. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some memories resurface for Ta'mo'hara as well as some past enemies.
> 
> TW for injury, canon typical violence and the like

The light of the sun on Tython gently warms Ta’mo’hara’s skin, exposed to the fresh air. She sits, legs folded, back straight, hands sitting atop her knees and eyes closed to the world softly turning around her. She pulls her focus to that very world, the gentle hum of the force, as warm as the sun, envelopes her and a small grin pulls at her lips, her chin turned up so her un-marked face can greet the sky above her as she sits in the courtyard. 

She reaches out through the force to each living thing, each creature, each plant, each small little life wandering through the Temple and feels peace in their vibration. She feels at home.

Tap, tap tap.

Keeping her eyes closed she scrunches her nose as the unfamiliar sound reaches her and breaks her trance. She tries to stay grounded and push the sound away.

Tap, tap, tap.

Ta’mo’hara begins to feel wary, a coldness creeping in as if a cloud is covering the sun, the gentle humming of the force becoming louder and louder, morphing into a sharp sound, much like the insects at harvest. Suddenly she is pulled from her calmness, not due to the shadow, but a small giggle interrupts her meditation. Followed swiftly by two more.

Gingerly she opens one eye. “Hmm, so peaceful.” She murmurs, suppressing a laugh of her own.   
“So nice being here…. All alone…”

More giggles echo in the courtyard and she scans around her, identifying the source of each sound of joy. Three small figures huddle behind a tree to her left, hovering at the edge of the courtyard and whispering to one another.

She lets her eyes close once again and basks in this moment of pure joy before she hears the sounds of small footfalls echoing and suddenly six little hands are upon her, racing across her with small tickles.

“Oh no you’ve got me!!!” She cries out with a sharp laugh, eyes opening to see the smiling faces of the attackers just as they push her to the ground. She reaches out and begins tickling each of them and before long they succumb to their own giggling fits and fall back.   
“Aren’t you three supposed to be in the library doing some readings?” 

Ta’mo’hara smiles down at them and awaits their response as they stand and adjust their beige robes around them.

She feels she knows exactly what they will answer, and that shadow creeps up on her again, cooling her skin. The hair on her arms raise as she suddenly realizes she’s been here before. A sensation prickles on the back of her neck and suddenly she gasps as she reaches her fingers back and they dance across her skull eliciting a sharp crack of pain which shoots through her body.

Unperturbed by her pain, one of the younglings opens their mouths, “Yes, Master, but- “

Their voice is suddenly drowned out by a strong, hard, tap, tap, tap.

Ta’mo’hara jolts awake, eyes flying open and suddenly she is blinded by a strong, white light. She feels a strange pressure behind her eyes and goes to touch her head, only to realize she cannot. Her mind is foggy and she feels as if she’s floating in zero-grav before she starts to see clearly and the sharp pain in her skull subdues to an ache. Slowly she blinks her eyes against the sharp unnatural light and sees two pairs of boots directly in her eye line. Odd, She thinks to her self, how did they get their boots on the ceiling? It takes another few seconds before she realizes they are in fact not on the ceiling and the growing pressure behind her eyes is because she is upside down, all the blood in her body rushing to her head. She jolts again and a loud clanging comes to her attention, she looks down, or rather up, at her body to see her legs and arms bound, body strapped to some metal table that is tipped upside down.

Tap, tap, tap.

The sound reverberates in the space around her. Marking each second it takes for her to suddenly remember what had happened. The younglings being dragged from her up into the Imperial ships, the blaster fire and the explosion that knocked her backwards and flying into the rocks behind, leaving her with the scars that are a physical reminder of the younglings she had let down.

But her memories were interrupted by an image, a small green creature and a Beskar clad man.

Her younglings were taken long before, years before. She struggled within to remember the past few days and gasped aloud as she remembered the Mandalorian and the Child.

“So you’re awake.”

Ta’mo’hara’s blood runs cold as she looks to see a third pair of boots have joined the first two. For a moment she thought she must still have been dreaming of that day on Tython were everything she loved was taken from her. The day she was left alone, scarred and broken and the day she last heard that voice.

Without time for a second thought or a moment of control, rage filled her body. It was as if the blood that pooled in her head suddenly began to flow upwards, white hot rage filled every crevice of her body. Instead of following her training, of feeling the emotion and letting it flow, she allowed this rage to bloom and she felt it with her chest, as if a small bird fluttered there, caged within her ribs, awaiting release.

So she obliged.

She looked up at the man and her suspicions were confirmed. It was Moff Gideon.

Ta’mo’hara could not pull her eyes from him and the smug grin on his face. She clenched her fists and felt the strong sting of rage fuel her as she reached out to the force, not hesitating as she felt what reached back. The dark.

She released all she had, intending to break her bonds and force the two troopers besides Gideon back into the wall behind them. She wasn’t sure what she would do once she had Gideon in her hands, but she knew it was something she wouldn’t come back from easily.

She let the darkness and the rage pool within her, and just as she was about to release it all upon the man who caused her so much pain- she suddenly was pulled out of her own mind. She heard sharp crackling and suddenly her whole body spasmed, she heard it before she felt it, the sharp tingling pain of being tasered. The pain, she quickly realized, originated at the shackles that held her arms and legs in place above her, travelling through her body, forcing her muscles to spasm. Ta’mo’hara tried to push it away and reach for her rage that lay beneath her ribs once more, but the pain only increased so drastically that she could not hold back the scream that was ripped from her.

She felt her body repeatedly smack against the cold metal her body was propped against, the pain replacing the rage, before she went limp.

Tap, tap, tap.

“I thought we’d got you all, what was it, five years ago? Six?” His smug tone pulled her back into consciousness.

“Looks like you missed one.” She bit back.

Tap, tap, tap.

“It was such a shame you know. I thought they would have been stronger, maybe lasted at least slightly longer.”

Ta’mo’hara stayed silent, fighting against her eyelids that desperately wanted to close, and a body, exhausted, which only wanted sleep. The rage within her now only a small fluttering bird, beating in time with her heart and that small tap, tap, tap.

“The last of them was dead within a month.” 

A growl echoed within the small holding walls and it took her a moment to realize that the sound had come from her, the rage grew once more. Within a second her anger was back and she was pushing out against the metal that held her down. But again the shackles zapped her, a higher voltage forcing her eyes to roll back into her eyes and her body to go limp. She was beginning to drift out of consciousness when she heard it again, the sound was coming from the ground below her.

Tap, tap, tap.

She began to realize the source of the sound when Moff Gideon spoke once again.

“That’s alright, we have the child now.”

Tap, tap, tap.

The sound echoed in her ears as he turned and left the room. She was struggling to look beneath her, to find the source of the sound that had been plaguing her. The sound of her blood dripping into grates beneath her and pooling in a collecting vessel.


	6. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more angst for you. Not to fear there is fluff incoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Medical stuff, kinda torture? blood

Ta’mo’hara drifted in and out of consciousness, she thought of Grogu, if he was safe, if the Mandalorian would rescue him in time. She never thought of herself in those moments between dream and awake, she thought on every face she lost. 

Her Padawan, her younglings, the caretakers lying dead as the smoke drifting into the sky in tendrils, the temple burning. As she lay, bound on an unknown Imperial ship, she found herself in moments laying instead on Tython, her body bleeding into the ash and dirt around her as she attempted to reach out with the force for anything living on the planet. Nothing. Alone.

She was alone.

She felt the blood trickling down her checks and pooling in her collarbones. She was there for days, unconscious. Voices whispering to her, the force the only presence she had.

It was there in the prisoner hold that she remembered her true sin in those days, her desire to bleed out and die. But the universe wouldn’t let her. She recalled the anger, the despair and the bright, beautiful, blinding glimmer of hope on the forth day as she found the strength to stand. As she rose, caked in her own blood, body screaming in the process, she emerged with a promise to never visit the part of her that wanted to die again. She would live. She would live for them. But she would live alone.

Suddenly the door to her cell opened and she was pulled from her memory, the two troopers on guard stop aside and a man in white entered the room, followed by a tray adorned with medical instruments. Sharp and intimidating. Despite her state, the wound on the base of her skull bleeding and the ache of her muscles she knew she could withstand whatever he had to offer her and she pushed every feeling of her physical body away, focusing only on her breathing.

\--

Ta’mo’hara had lost track of time, not that she had exactly been paying attention, but she had been trying, with some measure of desperation to focus on anything other than the needles the man had placed into her spine. She focused on the bright side, at least she wasn’t upside down anymore. Her eyes followed the boots as they made their way around her body, she was now face down and horizontal, her back exposed to the man who worked away on her. Prodding her with needles, creating small cuts on her back. Momentarily she thought about the fresh scars that would join the old, but then she realized they may not have time turn to scar tissue.

She was feeling an emotion she had felt very few times in her life. Helplessness. In all her training, in any combat experience she had, she was the superior opponent. This wasn’t vanity, just fact. Now here she lay, any attempt to use the force countered with the sharp stabbing and overbearing pain of the electrical currents they flooded her with. How did she allow this to happen?

A needle pierced the base of her neck and a gasp escaped her lips that she had been biting down on in an attempt to keep quiet. She didn’t want them to have any satisfaction in her suffering.

On more than one occasion she had tried to reach out to Grogu with the force and had only reached his small energy, drained and asleep. She could tell her was close but the connection was slowly weakening. She feared he was hurt but she realized it was her end that was fading in her fight to stay conscious.

A voice from above her spoke, “I won’t be much longer, she hasn’t got much left she can give us. He can begin the questioning soon, I’ve extracted as much blood as I’ll need for a few weeks. Then we can start on the child, his count is higher anyway.”

So she was right she thought, they were taking her blood. Her vision was beginning to blur at the edges and she considered one last attempt at escape when suddenly the ship shook and a loud siren broke her focus.

It was then that her body chose to give out and she slipped into the sleep she had been fighting off for too long.

\--

When she awoke the only thing she was aware of was the sensation of lightly numbed pain that extended across her back as she attempted to claw herself into full consciousness, her body thrashing against pillows and a scratchy yard of fabric that she was entwined in. She felt a small hand against her face and she panicked as she realized she could not see, but quickly she regained a sense of calm, her hands moving around her and stopping on a small warm object that cooed at her touch. She quickly realized it was the large eared child she had been so worried about and scooped him into her arms, ignoring the pull of what felt like stitches at her back. The small one buried his face in her neck and squawked in delight, his tiny hands grabbing at her long loose hair that covered them both almost like a blanket.

Before she had time to think on where she was, bright light intruded on the pair and she held a hand up to shield her eyes and pulled the child closer. Her mind went straight into attack mode and her body tensed and she pulled herself and Grogu backwards, slamming into a hard wall. A small breath was pushed from her and the child, startled, yelped.

Ta’mo’hara raised her hand and directed it at the dark figure that appeared in the light at the room’s entrance and pushed with the force, sending the figure flying backwards.

She heard a body hit the floor with a loud clang of metal on metal and a soft exhale through a voice modulator.

“Hey!”

Before she had time to react to the voice the child escaped her grasp and waddled forward to the edge of what Ta’mo’hara was realizing was a bunk and lowered himself down.

She jumped forward in an attempt to bring the child back so safety, and her eyes adjusted to the light. Looking down from where she crouched on the bunk she was met with the face of the Mandalorian looking up at her only inches away.

A blush crept onto her cheeks and her head spun as she became aware of where she was and what must have happened.

“Oh. You saved us.”

“Yeah, although now I’m starting to wonder why.” The modulated voice came from beneath the helmet, one hand raised almost comically to touch against it as if rubbing a bruise.

Ta’mo’hara let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and suddenly she became aware of her body for the first time since she was taken, she allowed herself once more to feel completely outside of the aches and pains inflicted upon her. Exhaustion, pain, fear. Emotions and physical feelings she had been holding on the periphery, only paying attention to them for practical reasons.

Her head ached as if she had been drinking Lothal Spicebrew for a week, her spine felt like it had been broken and put back together and her wrists and ankles were blistered. She felt heavy as she sat down and looked out from the small bunk and peered over the Mandalorian and the small child into the hold of an unfamiliar ship. She heard two voices somewhere above her but it failed to raise alarm in her. 

“You should rest.” 

She frowned down at the Mandalorian, still taking in her bearings.

“I’ll be fine.” Ta’mo’hara grunted as she moved to stand in front of the now tall and encroaching figure of the Mandalorian, but she started to topple backwards. Two firm hands reached out, holding her arms and stabilizing her in place.  
“You might want to reconsider that.

“Okay, I will, but first, where are we?”


	7. Midi-Chlorians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EXTREMELY FLUFFY, this chapter is a bit dialogue heavy and focuses mainly on plot but lots of very adorable Mando/Grogu moments and hints at feelings between Mando and Ta'mo'hara. Fennec and Boba also make more of an appearance.

Four of the six chairs on the Slave 1 were filled. Turned to face each other, the two Mandalorians and the mercenary focused attention to the battered girl retelling the events, which she had experienced the day before, wounds still fresh. 

The fifth passenger wriggled about between his guardian and the girl. Stopping here and there to giggle or tug at loose strands of her hair that brushed across his ears as he sat in her lap.

“So they wanted your blood?” The unmasked Mandalorian named Boba Fett queried, looking down at the child she held, “And his?”

“Yes, they mentioned something about his high midi-chlorian count.”

The two unmasked at the table looked at each other, with a questioning, but knowing look shared between them, whilst the helmet of the Mandalorian only looked between each of them inquisitively.

Mando tilted his head to the side, “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

As he spoke, his voice grabbed the attention of Grogu who began to reach out across the chair, teetering with out stretched arms, waiting for Mando who reached back and pulled him into his lap where the child instantly became enamored with searching pockets and pouches. The Mandalorian, without even looking down to see what he was after, pulled a small metal ball from his pocket and placed it in the child’s palm. Only then when the child cooed in delight did he look down. He held on a little tighter, feeling slightly more relaxed after their re-union.

The moment he had found the child he had picked him up and refused to put him back down again until the child became desperately tired and refused to sleep in his arms, wanting only to become involved in any activity his guardian was completing when they reached Slave 1. He held him their the entire time they fought their way back out of the imperial cruiser, one hand around the child, the other holding- and dragging- the body of the girl as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Boba had remained on the ship but Fennec Shand had followed the Mandalorian and acted as body guard to him and the force sensitive pair that was the subject of the rescue mission.

Once aboard the ship and safely in hyperspace, the girl being patched up by Shand, the Mandalorian allowed himself to breathe again. The child still held tightly in his arms as he sat on a crate. The two just looking at one another, the child cooing in relief at his return. The Mandalorian gently pressed his helmet to the child’s forehead, who reached out, a small three fingered hand pressed into either cheek of the beskar helmet, and his eyes closed for a moment.

He recalled when the child finally needed to be put down to bed; he opened the sleeping bunk to place the child besides the not-Jedi who was unconscious within. He paused longer than he thought he should, watching as the child snuggled into her, hands tangled in her hair and the blanket that covered them both. The girl looked small, peaceful and unimposing, mouth slightly open as she breathed softly. She lacked the same almost imposing and forceful presence she had when awake, especially now her black Jedi robes were replaced with one of his oversized tunics he had given to Fennec Shand to cover the girl, who’s clothes were torn, dirtied and bloodied save for her outer robes and pants they had recovered. He felt something tug at his heart as he watched his ward sleep in her arms, but he pushed it away, refusing to acknowledge it in the moment. Too dangerous. Forbidden even. He thought as he hit the button that closed the hatch on the two sleeping there.

He was pulled back into the present by the voice of the same girl who’s features he now had memorized. The curve of her cupids bow, the way a scar interrupted the curve of her upper lip and dragged to the lower one and beyond to her chin. The freckles that interrupted the fine scars across her high cheekbones and round cheeks and disappeared on her brow into her hairline. She sat, legs now curled against her chest, clad in pants and tunic far too large for her, blanket draping over her shoulders and emitting the faint smell of e-bacta from her as it was soaking into every inch of her back.

“They’re microscopic life forms that live inside the living cells of all things. With a certain number present they can allow one to become sensitive to the force. They speak to us, speak the will of the force.” Ta’mo’hara’s voice was strong and even as she spoke from beneath the piles of fabric she cocooned herself in, making eye contact with each three at the table, then stopping on the smallest one, the fourth. She noticed the Mandalorian’s grip on him tighten ever so slightly.

“They said his count was high. Higher than my own, but they wanted to…. Exhaust my blood supply before his. I guess they’re using it in some sick experiment that they-“ The steadiness of her voice began to waver, “they’ve failed once before.”

Her nails were digging into the palm of her hand as the rage she felt on that ship returned, white hot and strong, filling her once more, her eyes glazed over as she thought of Moff Gideon and what he had taken from her.

“How do you know this?” The woman spoke, breaking her trance.

Shame flooded within Ta’mo’hara and she took a moment to breathe before she replied, filling herself with the peace of the force, trying to fight the war within her that would lead to a balance of the emotions that crashed within her like waves at sea.

“Because they used my younglings I was training on Tython. They took them from me six years ago. I thought they had killed them all, some twisted Imperial cult, using the armor of the old clones to fulfill Order 66 to destroy the Jedi.” She noticed that Boba Fett seemed to stiffen for a moment, but she passed it off as the usually stoic man having a moment of compassion.

Mando froze himself, remembering his short lived child-hood and the droids that took it from him, he also spared a moment to think of the Great Purge. Through his visor he stared at the girl, perhaps they had more in common than he thought.

“They are going to keep coming for us, but mainly him. I believe they wanted to use me to find the surviving Jedi. Lucky for the Jedi we kept that a secret even from each other. Hopefully Master Tano has moved on from Corvus.” Ta’mo’hara continued. “We need to find a place to hide, or at the very least a different ship that can travel undetected by the Empire. Not that this isn’t… lovely,” She laughed, not wanted to offend the ship’s owner and captain.

The sound of it took Mando off guard, he had heard her laugh before but this time was different. He couldn’t help but admire her, sitting there, wounded, on the run and hunted, but laughing. Laughing the sweetest sound he had heard in his life. Aside from the sounds of the child of course.

“She’s right,” Shand spoke, “You three need to get off this ship. I doubt we’d have any issue but they know to look for it now.” She paused and looked into the eyes of the man beside her, clad in beskar to his neck, his own uncovered eyes looking back. A moment of agreement passed between them. “I have contacts that can infiltrate the surviving Imperial information systems. I propose that we find you a ship, we separate and you hide. We’ll give you a commlink that can only be used by either of us, but don’t use it until it’s emergency. We’ll see what we can find out about this and how we can stop them, how we can protect the child.”

“You don’t have to do this, this isn’t your burden to bear.” Din spoke, modulated voice showing only the slightest emotional reverberation.

“The child is not safe until they are stopped. I still owe you that debt, for the return of my beskar.” The stern man spoke.

“Alright, I know a place to find a ship. Lock in Nevarro on the navigation system.” He spoke to the man who was already standing and walking towards to the cockpit. Fett nodded once in response.

Ta’mo’hara looked over at the Mandalorian as he spoke, the child nestled in his arms, happily satiated as he drooled over his metal ball. She couldn’t help but notice the vibrations of the force that seemed to reach out to her from the pair. It seemed as if it touched her, right beneath her breastbone, and washed over her rage like cool water, evaporating the hatred that brewed there and replaced it with something else entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> Kind feedback is appreciated!


End file.
